Dominance
by The Author and Self
Summary: The team is called away to Natchez, Mississippi to investigate a series of ritualistic murders that seem linked to Haley Reid's newest exploit in ancient humans with Yale. May get a little brutal later in the story. Reid/JJ Morgan/Pen maybe Hotch/Emily...
1. The Top of the Hill

**A/N: See? I told you it wouldn't be long until I wrote a new story! Okay this is only a month after what transpired in Hold Me Close. Reid's leg is still in a cast and he was to wear crutches. Haley has moved to Natchez, Mississippi to do some work on the Emerald Mound, the largest mound structure in the continental USA, that a professor has recently had a lot of good luck with.**

**One**

_Amos Bronson Alcott said, "Civilization degrades the many to worship the few."_

"I think that this was really a better opportunity for you, Haley," Professor Strauss said as she and her pupil began the trudge up the 35 foot tall Emerald Mound. They had already walked around the 2410 foot perimeter once, and Haley was in awe of the sheer mass of the structure.

"Well, thank you for allowing me to transfer over here, I hope I can be the help that you wanted," Haley smiled, wiping some sweat from her brow and taking a deep breath. The hot humidity of the air in the southern United States was a striking contrast to the cool, rainy atmosphere of Wessex.

"Allowing you?" Strauss laughed. "I was begging for you to come with me in the first place! You can get your doctorate here faster anyways," she smiled. Professor Strauss was a petite woman, about half a foot shorter than Haley with feathery red hair and rimless glasses. Her high cheek bones gave her face a look of constant youthfulness, though the Professor was on the verge of fifty. "I have the highest respect for Professor Woodrow, but Stonehenge? You'll have better luck here."

Haley smiled; the professors were always at each others' throats over whose research was more logical and beneficial. So far, neither of them has won.

"But again, thank you," Haley asserted. She hated to be seen as someone who couldn't stick to a certain criteria of work. "What is it that you'd like me to look at in particular?"

"Well, we've found this… we've found a pot, and the inscriptions and pictures on it that completely conflict with most of the information that has been gathered about these peoples. It can change the history of the continent!"

Strauss' words excited Haley and she grew quiet with the feeling welling up in her stomach. Changing the course of history…

She froze as they reached the top of the mound. "Oh my-"

Professor Strauss screamed at the sight before them.

--

"Natchez Police Department," said a bored voice over the phone. Haley had remained calm, shaken on the inside, but with a calm exterior.

"I need to report a murder," Haley said authoritatively. "At the National Park on the Emerald Mound."

"Let me hook you up to the Chief of Police," the secretary said in a slightly less bored voice than the one she used previously.

Strauss watched Haley fill the Police Department in on the details of the grisly scene at the top of the mound. She couldn't believe it, hadn't she had a student keep a look out on the top. However, the only reason she hadn't fainted at the scene was the fact that the team had stored the pot in the green tent at the base of the mound. They were there now, with the pot on the table that Haley was leaning against. She hung up the phone with a white face.

"They're bringing in the FBI in, apparently this sort of scene has been found all over town lately," Haley sighed, rubbing her nose.

"The FBI?" Strauss asked.

"The Behavioral Analysis Unit, rather. They only sent the application for the case today. It should be accepted at some point tomorrow if they take it seriously," Haley nodded.

"How do you know?"

"My brother's in the BAU," she smiled.

"Will they take it seriously?"

Haley felt odd to be the one answering a Professor's doubtful questions. But if there's one thing you learn in the field is that everyone is a person, everyone has a core of humanity, even professor. "I hope they will. I have no idea how they select these things," Haley answered as best she could.

She looked Strauss up and down. The woman was shaken by the gruesome scene, she sat there nearly trembling with the cup of coffee in her hands. She was nervous, looking in every corner of the tent. She'd never seen a real mutilated body before.

Haley nearly laughed at her own thought. Well, most people _haven't_ seen their fair share of mutilated corpses. "Wanna talk about this pot of yours?" she asked, beginning to lure Strauss back into her protection bubble.

--

The next day, JJ sat at her desk and began to sift through the new case files that had been expressed shipped to the BAU. She really didn't take anything that had been sent through no special system seriously, it was like the people that sent them didn't care. Most of the time, they weren't even completely filled out.

She now had a decent pile going. Feeling more accomplished than she did when she first walked into the office, she opened a case file from Natchez, Mississippi.

Haley was the first thought that blipped through her mind as she turned through the gory images of men and women alike in the middle of a circle of blood with strange symbols around it. Ears were missing; the right leg was broken in the same three places on all of the victims. There had been four of these killings.

Then she saw Haley's name on the police report of the fourth murder. "What?" she wrinkled her brow and held the paper closer, as though that would erase the name from the paper. She looked up at the column it was in: Reporter. Haley was clean, that was good. Why did that child always have to get involved in this kind of stuff? Why didn't they just go ahead and make her a Special Agent so that they wouldn't have any more paperwork to do that explains why there's a twenty year old girl at most of their crime scenes.

Actually, JJ was exaggerating, Haley had only been connected directly with two different crimes that the BAU was involved in. She closed the case file and walked into Hotch's office, waving it. He sighed and rallied the troops into the briefing room for JJ's case presentation.

--

Spencer was a nervous wreck. Haley in Natchez, Mississippi with a psychopath on the loose. Of course. Of freaking course!

He took out his phone just before they got on the jet and for the umpteenth time, Morgan told him he was overreacting. Reid was about to tell him that he didn't have a sister that happened to be a serial killer magnet, but decided against it as he lifted the phone to his ear, listening to Haley's ringback tone.

The song had reached the bridge before she picked up. "Hello?"

"Haley!"

"Hey, Spencer, what's going on?"

"We're on our way to Natchez."

"Oh. Okay then, I'll see you when you get here. You'll be stopping by the Emerald Mound, right?"

"Yes," Reid answered almost without a pause between the question and response.

"Then I'll see you here. Just… just be _careful!_ This structure is over a century old and if you mess it up in some way, don't think that Yale won't sue the living-"

"Haley, we won't destroy the mound, okay? We're just looking at the crime scene," Reid rolled his eyes, now eager to get away from the conversation. "All right, well, I've got to go. See you in a couple of hours."

"See you then," Haley said. He could hear her smile over the phone.


	2. Translation

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Another thing, I don't own Criminal Minds. I own Haley and all of my other original characters. Please review because I love to hear feedback from my readers!**

**Two**

"Good God," said a female police officer who had flanked the BAU team on their way up to the top of the Mound. From what Reid had heard, Haley was in that green tent at the base of the hill, but duty first, he had to see this.

The team stopped once they saw the site. Yeah, it was ten times worse than the descriptions in the police report and the pictures in the folder, they always were. Blood was everywhere, smeared so thickly into the grass that JJ swore she saw chunks of flesh in there as well. The symbols painted were those that she didn't recognize. She had no clue, and they were placed so particularly around the circle. The center of the circle was where the gore was thickest, the body having been removed, it left a stain in the dead blades of grass and an eerie wet look to the healthy grass.

JJ squeezed Reid's shoulder from beside him as she continued down the hill to a small mob of press. Spencer smiled. She was so good at her job.

Hotch began to talk to the Chief of Police that was already there, surveying the scene. Reid didn't care to listen as he looked begrudgingly at his crutches. Only three more weeks in those things and he'd be fine. He hated the crutches with all of his heart. They made him slow, and seem to just be a deficiency to the team. They were a symbol of his temporary handicap.

"Hey, Dr. Hobalong!" Morgan cried from his position with Emily near one of the corners of the mound.

Spencer disliked the new nick name, but it was temporary, he reminded himself of this as he hobbled toward the others and was handed a pair of latex gloves.

Emily stood up and gave the paper to him. A leaf of college-ruled notebook paper with strange symbols scrawled in black ink. "Can you read that?" Emily asked.

Reid turned it over, maybe they were giving it to him sideways, or upside down, but no dice. "No, I don't know what language that is."

Morgan looked at the sheet in despair. "Well damn," he muttered.

"We can find someone else," Emily said hopefully.

"Someone else, what?" Haley asked as she crested the hill, looking very dirty from the dig that day. She brightened at the sight of her brother. "What's going on?"

Emily gave her latex gloves as she was given the paper with the strange language scrawled onto it. Haley's eyes flashed with recognition. "This is Unyææshæötká." She received strange looks from all present. "Mingo," she said. "I can translate for you, if you want. But I'm a little rusty."

"Oh, yeah, I need to brush up on my Mingo as well. I've been meaning to lately," Emily rolled her eyes.

"Of course one of the Reids would know a language called _Mingo_," Morgan smiled.

Haley rolled her eyes before she began to read the sheet of paper. "Illihifóoska hasna onka. Hasi ootàmmi hitòkla ittíllawwi wasaawòoka…"

"Yeah?" Morgan asked.

"You're all close to the approach of death," she said, still looking at the paper. "Two sunrises and the same of your number will be gone."

"They're communicating with the authorities," Emily murmured.

"Albeit strangely. It's like they wanted one of the excavation team to be pulled into this," Reid said, taking the paper and turning it over in his hand, as though Haley had missed anything. "What would possess someone to learn this language unless they were heavily involved with the culture?"

"Perhaps Mississippian themselves?" Morgan suggested. "A group or mafia set of Mississippian Indians?"

"Plausible," Emily nodded. "Haley, stay up here; there might be another note."

Haley sighed. "Emily, you know I'd love to, but there's this pot down at the tent that I was cleaning up and translating so-"

"We need you, Baby Doll," Morgan grinned at her as she frowned at him. Of course he pulled out the nicknames. That's how he always got her.

This reminded her… "Penelope not coming?"

"She's on her way," Morgan beamed. He was so in love with her it was cute, seeing such a man nearly crippled at the mention of such a woman. "What's the deal with the pot?"

Haley held her finger to her lips. "Secret, secret," she taunted. JJ sauntered up behind Haley and hugged her. "Long time, no see, Haley. I love the hair," she smiled.

"Oh," Haley said, twisting a strand of her newly short hair. Before, it was almost halfway down her back, now it was a little longer than her brother's length, only well maintained. "Yeah, well, it was getting in my way a lot, so, you know, hack it off." She hated when the conversation focused around her; it stemmed from a deeply rooted fear of being taunted seeded in pre-kindergarten when she realized that most other girls didn't know how many chromosomes the human genome was supposed to contain. She constantly changed the subject when it did come to her in any respect.

Spencer empathized, promptly switching gears to the subject of where they were going to eat that night and asking what restaurants had a good menu. His little sister animatedly spoke of her new apartment and how just down the street was a nice little grille. Spencer relaxed once he saw she had.

Haley brightened when Hotch and Rossi came toward their group. "What's going on, Hotch?" Morgan asked, instantly flipping from friend to agent mode like someone had pressed a button.

"Well, we already know most of what's going on," Hotch said, sounding slightly resentful.

"Did they know about this?" Emily showed him the paper.

"Yes, Evidence has had yet to come down and mark everything," Rossi rolled his eyes. "You'd think that with such a small town you'd have people begging to be part of this."

"That's what it would appear to be, huh," Emily put her hand on her hip, lowering her sunglasses with the other. "I think they're scared."

"There's a psychotic killer on the loose. I'm kind of scared, too," Haley said in disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, I mean, reluctant to really figure out who's doing this. The locals seem to not want _anything_ to do with it," she pontificated further.

"Are you suggesting that the town already knows what's behind this?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," she came to the resolution that Morgan had, "I am."

--

The next morning on the mound, Haley could be seen telling Reid about all of their findings, about who did what and how and why it was done. Of course, her brother was eating it up. Anything to expand his knowledge and make his sister happy was top in his list of priorities.

JJ smiled up at the duo and she laughed with Penelope, also watching. She had flown in late last night and gone ahead to her and Morgan's room without telling the rest of the team. The tear filled reunion had been held that morning. Now she had set up a camp in the tent running through old town news articles for any type of native club or organization. She had a few hits, but nothing to raise question about.

She wondered what kind of luck Emily and Morgan were having with local interrogations, or how Hotch and Rossi were handling things at the Police Department.

Penelope nudged her as a group of men with press badges barged into the tent. JJ sighed. "Boys, boys, please! There isn't any photography allowed in here," JJ muttered as she lead the heckling men outside of the green tent.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with the town showing no sign of want to reveal who was behind the recent murders, but completely and totally indicating that they knew who was the driving force.

--

It was the day of the second sunrise, and the team was on edge. Having made no real advancement as to the discovery of the culprits, they had only the profile and a map of a comfort area to go by.

Emily gave a reassuring nod to Hotch and he sighed. It was time to give the profile.

--

Two hours had passed since JJ saw Haley and Spence go out to the car and she grew worried. "Pen," she whispered, for no apparent reason other than not to draw attention to her panic. "Have you seen Spencer and Haley?"

"Not lately, I figured they might be on the mound," she said, her eyes growing wide. JJ never grew concerned unless there was concern to be had. "But they couldn't have been gone this long, right? Aw, Jayj, is it not safe to go _outside_ anymore?"

JJ said nothing, but started to shake her head in belief as she patted Morgan on the shoulder as an indication to follow her. Penelope came in hot pursuit, Hotch and Rossi in tow.

The team burst into the bright sunlight of the parking lot looking ready for a throw down, only to find the lot hopelessly, disturbingly, and despairingly devoid of Reid and Haley.

JJ screamed in a mix of horror, disgust, and rage.


	3. Fresh Hell

**Three**

Haley coughed awake and reached for her agonizingly sore throat. Their captors had punched her there after she kicked one in the groin. Then she had felt a hand on her shoulder and that was the end of that. He must've hit a pressure point. She rolled over onto her back, every inch of her body sore, not really caring to count how many bruises she had. She saw wooden rafters and a single light bulb that seemed on its last effort to work hung from the ceiling, waving. Their captors had just left. They had _just been there._ What did they do? Where was Spencer?

She pushed herself through the pain into an upright position, leaning against the earthen wall of what she concluded was a cellar. She strained her neck to look around a little, scanning first to the right, then to the left. There.

He was flat down on the floor like she had been, silent, still. Oh God…

She crawled over to her brother, not sure if she could endure the pain in her knees if she stood, to check for vital signs. His cast was still intact, so the bone would heal okay… if he was still… which he had to be. Haley reached him and checked for a pulse, finally finding a strong one in his temple, pumping oxygen to that big brain of his. He was probably dreaming.

She decided it was best not to wake him up and rolled over on the floor next to him, unable to hold herself up on all fours much longer.

Haley stared blankly up at the ceiling, eyes shifting from that stupid, swinging light bulb to the blackout curtains on the narrow windows, then to her brother that could very well be in a coma. She shivered, the air outside had started to get colder at night, and moisture collected in the cellar would be ten times colder. She cuddled up next to Spencer, hoping to keep him warm as well as herself, wishing of all things that she could cry.

But she was so, so beyond that.

--

"We were warned," Morgan said. "I didn't believe it, I thought… I thought they were acting bigger than they were."

"This only confirms our suspicions of a cult, or a gang," Emily said. "Morgan, you didn't do this, I promise," she rubbed his shoulder.

"The second sunrise, Prentiss!" Morgan shouted more to himself than the other agent. "Two days, today!"

"Garcia, run another background check on the victims," Hotch said hopelessly.

"Hotch, baby, I've already run like, three scans on the databases… Hold on one second, I've got another idea," she beamed as the sound of her fingers clacking on the keys of one of her laptops filled the room, breaking up the tension like static. Two minutes passed and she came up from her screen with a smile on her face. "Well, I have a connection between the victims."

"You do?" Morgan beamed at her. "How'd you find it, baby?"

"Myspace," she grinned. "Katrina Perkins, age 28, late girlfriend of Joel Longfoot; Maia Burwell, age 24, late girlfriend of Harrison Chepi; Olsen Young, age 25, late boyfriend of Renee Niabi; and Chelsea Smith, age 24, late girlfriend of Joshua Blueknife. I ran the names of their survivors through US Database and all four of their names turned up in a Mississippian group celebrating their Native American heritage based here in Natchez."

"Myspace," JJ sighed and rolled her eyes. "Wow."

"It worked, didn't it?" Penelope raised her eyebrows in satisfaction. "We've got a connection."

"We need to get their addresses," Emily said, stiffening.

"I'll go with you," Hotch looked at her trustingly with traces of a smile feinting on his lips. He began to slide his jacket on and walk out the door to one of the SUV's outside as Emily grabbed the address list.

"Hotch, we'll split them," Rossi called after the agent, grabbing a second address list. "Come on, Morgan, we're searching for our genius."

--

Spencer woke up to see Haley next to him, then he felt the ache of his throat. What the hell did that guy do to him? "Hales?" he nudged her.

She woke up screaming and flailing and he put a hand over her mouth until she recognized him. "_Spence!_" she whispered in relief. "Are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be," he said, looking her up and down with worry dripping from his gaze. She was bruised from head to toe, particularly around the neck and knees. What had they done to _her_? "Haley… are…?"

"Yeah, it hurts like a mother," she laid down again, her arms aching her. "They must've taken a pipe to me or something while I was down, you know? I'll be fine. If I don't look at it, I'll be fine. Is it really that bad?"

"Do you really want me to tell you?"

"No."

"Then I won't." He continued scanning her. "How long've we been down here?"

"I don't know. They took my watch. You can't see the sun with the blackout curtains either." She sighed and put her head down on the compacted earthen floor. "We'll be fine. The team will find us," she muttered more to console herself than anyone else.

"Yeah," Spencer nodded, no longer looking at her but at the iron door that barred their way up the stairs. He pulled Haley closer to him and started rubbing the back of her head. He heard a few sharp clicks and Haley wrenched away from him to turn around and look.

He sat up and realized he had no crutches. No way to stand and protect his little sister and he cursed himself for being so damn helpless all the time.

The knob began to turn.

Haley looked alertly at the door, staring it down as if to ward whoever was behind it away. Spencer could tell she was hurting all over. Her shoulders and neck were so bruised they were almost black, and her face had a few good knocks on it as well. Still she looked toughly at the door.

A man entered the room. He was tall, probably about six foot four, and looked to be about two hundred pounds. His jet black hair was almost navy against his tan skin. His liquid brown eyes glared at the siblings. "We warned you," he said in a low voice. No accent at all, if anything, a slight southern drawl. "We warned you not to get involved."

Haley said nothing.

"I knew you could read it. You told your friends, your _brother_, and you still didn't leave," he growled. "You didn't need to be involved." That was directed at Spencer, the FBI agent, the major power. Then he looked lustily at Haley. "And now you're gonna pay."

He shuffled over and grabbed Haley by the hair, lifting her up to her knees and grabbing her shoulder. He bent down so he was on her level and licked her cheek. "You're gonna watch." He glared at Spencer.

_Oh, God, no._

"You could have asked the mayor if you wanted us off the mound. We didn't mean anything by it!" she whimpered. "Just… I know you have your mind set on this… but… not in front of him…" A tear streamed down her cheek. She hated herself for being so weak, but she could hardly move, and she had resolved to the fact that yes, she was about to be raped.

"That's a big request from such a little girl," he snarled at her. He looked at her some more. "He doesn't have to watch… this time."

Reid knew better than to shout at him. He knew better than to break his leg again by trying to fight the brutish man that held his sister now. He was hopelessly helpless as he looked into Haley's eyes.

"Let him," she said, not bothering to disguise the fear leaking through her voice. She was looking dead at Spencer. The worst part was that she was totally understanding as the brute dragged her behind a shelf of jellies. She knew exactly why her big brother couldn't come to the rescue and she accepted it.

Spencer could do nothing but cover his ears, close his eyes, and scream to drown out those of Haley.


	4. Criminal Mind

**A/N: Yes, I changed the rating to M. I felt that rape of a main character was… well… kind of M. Very M. So it's M now. I just don't want younger kids to overlook the T rating. It's M for a reason. I don't own Criminal Minds. I own Haley. Please review because you know just how much I love to hear what you think!**

**Four**

"They're known around here as the Sons of the Earth," Garcia finished with Prentiss on her cell as she and Hotch pulled up to a small, bright yellow house with a pleasant front yard.

"And these are only the descendants of the mound builders around here, right?" Emily asked, stepping out of the car.

"Yeah. No other tribe; no other race. From what I've gathered, they're kind of like the unofficial law makers here," Penelope said warily. "Em, be careful please."

"Am I anything but?" Emily said as she hung up and began to walk down the pathway; Hotch was walking brusquely behind her. She noticed a nip to the air.

Hotch stood behind Emily as she briskly rapped her knuckles against the oak wood door of Joel Longfoot.

The sun had slipped past the horizon now, and the light was quickly escaping the agents. The coming night terrified them. Reid and Haley were rattling around now in Hotch's mind. He could let nothing happen to them. Morgan's words joined the mix. _We were warned._

"Yes? Can I help you, ma'am?" asked a small guy as he answered the door, looking up at Emily. He had dark tan skin with, short, spiked, ink black hair.

"Yes, ah, are you Joel Longfoot?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded. "What seems to be the problem?"

She and Hotch held up their badges as if on cue. "I'm Agent Prentiss, this is Agent Hotchner. We're here to investigate the recent murders of three young women and one man. We think they may be linked to a recent kidnapping. Can we come in?"

"… Now's really not the best time."

"What could you possibly have going on right now, Joel?" Hotch asked reasonably.

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if searching for an answer but coming up mute. "Go ahead," he said begrudgingly.

"Thank you, Mr. Longfoot. Now, do you know a Katrina Perkins?" Emily asked. "She was one of the murder victims."

"No," he said flatly.

"Really?" Emily stated rather than asked. "Would you allow us to follow you up on that?"

"I don't know any Katrina Perkins," Joel nearly shouted at her.

"Our sources tell us otherwise," Hotch said, glaring at him.

"Who!? Who told you that I know Katrina? I don't know her!" Joel slammed his hand on the table.

"You seem rather upset over a girl you don't even know," Hotch commented.

"Why are you even asking me about her? What would I know about these murders?" Joel asked exasperatedly.

"Are you a member of a group that call themselves the Sons of the Earth?" Emily asked.

"I'm a native of Natchez, yes," he said a little roughly. "I don't see where that concerns these killings."

"They were done in a ceremony that the archeologists at the dig site on the Emerald Mound say are directly related to the mound building people indigenous to this area. It wouldn't be too surprising if a 'secret society' like the Sons of the Earth, dedicated to their native past, had a hand in it," Hotch said, as though he were sitting an reasoning with this man. "Tell me, Joel. Do the Sons of the Earth have anything to do with these crimes?"

"I wouldn't call them crimes; I actually see them as a justice," Joel sneered.

"What do you mean? Those people were innocent. Katrina Perkins, _your_ late girlfriend, committed no crime," Emily said harshly.

"I already told you I don't know a damn Katrina Perkins," a now annoyed Joel glared at Prentiss. "Nor would I want to. Now, if you're done, I'd like you to leave."

"Thank you for your time," Hotch stood up and led Emily out by the shoulder. Once the door was slammed and locked behind them, he turned her to face him. "What did you pick up?"

"Well, he obviously _knows_ Katrina. He… she might be dead to him; she could have pissed him off in an argument and he snapped."

"Let's go question the next suspect, build a bond," Hotch reassured. "I have a feeling that this goes deeper than a lovers' quarrel."

--

Haley sat staring off at the window, as though seeing beyond the curtain there to prohibit curious outsiders from peeking into the cellar. She had been in that position for around three hours. Spencer thought she was thinking, compartmentalizing, sorting things out for what they were and what had happened.

Reid had heard none of it. He had waited for the soft touch of his sister on his hand before he stopped keeping himself away from it. He hated the look she gave him, the look of complete trust and understanding. How could she still trust him? Still respect him? Love him, even?

Still, she sat next to him in the dark, tracing circles into the dirt at their feet. "Spencer?" she asked at long, long last, her voice cracking from lack of use.

"Yeah, sweetie?" he asked, afraid of what she might say, might accuse him of.

"Why do people do this? Why do these ideas float into their heads and stick to the point that… well, you know. I would be so much better off if I knew _why_."

"Trust me, you wouldn't be," he said flatly. _Hypocrite, fool, ass_: _tell her._ "The way their minds work… it's like a normal person with an abnormal desire. This case is a group psychology."

"The use of we, every time he spoke?"

"It might be another person the next time someone comes in here," Spencer said, glaring at the door after looking at Haley's fresh bruises once again. This time they were all down her arms. In some places, one could distinctively count four finger marks with a thumb wrap-around. The sight made him want to maim that man.

Haley visibly shivered.

"Don't be scared."

"I'm cold," she said finally. He was okay and he looked at her some more. She was nearly purple all over. Only her face had been spared in a vague respect with two fading bruises from the fight in the parking lot. She had put up a fight, but not one big enough to save her from four massive men.

The sharp clicks sounded again as a different person entered the room. A woman of same decent as the man. She looked sharply at them. "We warned you," she said repeating the refrain of the week.

"Wh- what did we do?" Spencer spoke up before Haley. If anyone was going to be hurt this time, it was going to be him, not Haley. Never again.

"Got too close," she said as she picked up the iron pipe.

--

Emily and Hotch walked tiredly away from the last house. Renee Niabi hadn't been home, of course not. Emily looked at her comrade with a faint smile and a shrug of her shoulders. Hotch almost smiled back, even in the worst of times…

"We better call Rossi and Morgan," Hotch said, opening the door for Emily, indicating that he was going to drive.

"Yeah," she sighed, whipping out her phone and pressing speed dial 7.

"Morgan," Morgan said on the other line.

"It's Emily, did you and Rossi get anything?"

"Other than it's definitely this _Sons of the Earth_ group that's behind the past killings? Yeah, tons, but Joshua Blueknife wasn't even home. We did, however, get Harrison Chepi, and damn is he bad under pressure."

"And?" Emily asked hopefully.

"This group doesn't allow dating or intercourse or any of that stuff outside of the race, the 'People'," Morgan growled. Emily could just hear his eyes rolling. "Guess what? None of our victims were Mississippian, nor were they Native American, period. These weren't ceremonies involving human sacrifice; these were punishments to the members of the SOE for breaking what looks like a pretty major rule."

"Joel Longfoot did say that he didn't even _know_ Katrina Perkins over and over. Part of the punishment?"

"With the rate this is going? Definitely."

"They warned us to stay away because the case would lose the mystique to it and be easier to understand. They knew we'd figure it out," Emily said. "And they actually went through with taking two of our own…"

"Did you get any closer to figuring out where the Reids are?" Morgan asked almost desperately.

"No, not at all," Emily sighed and closed her eyes. "We'll find them, Morgan, we always do."

"Right," he said, not sounding convinced.

Emily caught sight of the police station and the other SUV coming their way. "I see you, catch you inside," she said and hung up, looking at Hotch hopelessly.


	5. Noise Pollution

**A/N: Hello! I put a universal disclaimer up on my profile about how I don't own Criminal Minds blah blah blah. So check there if you're finicky. If you aren't, then please review because I do love those things.**

**Five**

_Stop_, she thought. Her newly gagged mouth was so dry. So thirsty; so hungry. Her tongue seemed foreign to her own body. She was choking on her own spit half the time.

With each beat of her heart came a yelp from her brother as she watched the woman beat him with the pipe. Haley had already had her turn and was angry. Rage filled her vision as her nails clawed up dirt from the floor beneath her. How could she just watch? How could she sit idly by? She began to grind her teeth as her eyes welled up with the hot, stinging tears that she seemed to have been waiting on for years. Finally, that release of emotion. It needed to be done, but she was still consumed by a blinding frenzy of desperation.

Something shiny caught her eye and she glanced up quickly to see an old, possibly broken, iron on the shelf above even Spencer's line of vision. It was probably put down there with the owner's never realizing something like this would happen. She took a silent, deep breath and looked again at her brother, to help her draw strength for this incredibly stupid act, and crawled to the shelf on the wall adjacent to the one she had been leaning against.

Praying profusely that the woman would be too occupied to notice her, and at the same time Spencer wasn't hurting too badly, she reached the shelf and began to try to stand up by using the shelf itself as a hand-hold.

_Don't look up, Spence._

With a feeble, shaking, and terrified arm, she boldly reached for the iron on the top shelf, grabbed the handle, and toppled to the floor with the exertion. Her body had been abused to the point where if she tried to move it was all she could to not to pass out.

There was a terrible, horrifying silence. Spencer wasn't yelping anymore. There were no sounds of the rod whipping through the air and biting the flesh.

Haley laid perfectly still in the fetal position, back to the scenario behind her; the iron was hidden in the curve of her stomach. She exhaled, hearing the footsteps of the woman coming behind her, possibly with the rod.

"What were you trying to do, _stand_?" the woman spat. "Trying to get out? Leave him?" The woman crouched down with the rod to Haley's level. "Have you finally broken? Are you done studying and have you begun to live it? The pain?"

Haley's nostrils flared as she whipped around with the iron, beating the woman in the forehead with its edge and screaming. "STOP HURTING HIM! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!" underneath the gag, she sounded like she was an animal.

Every time she screamed the word, Haley brought the iron down on the woman's head. The words through the gag becoming unintelligible screams of agony. Tears flew with the blood that had started to sprout from the woman's head. And Haley was losing her resolve, her control; she was completely losing herself to her instinct. Her instinct told her to kill that woman.

She suddenly felt hands around her waist pulling her off of the non-moving kidnapper. The hands wrapped around her and held her close as she began to sob, dropping the iron she turned to see her brother untying the gag. "They're going to kill us now, aren't they?" she asked, weakly looking at the crushed skull of her brother's assailant.

--

It was 3:00AM.

JJ looked anxiously out the windows of the Police Department's window in blind hope of seeing Spencer step out of one of those SUV's. She fingered her ring nervously. She smiled every time she looked at the beautiful square-cut diamond on a white gold band. Spencer had purchased it for her the day they both were released from the hospital. Isabelle had picked it out.

Her beautiful Isabelle. What was JJ going to tell her if Uncle Spencer didn't come home this time? Aunt Haley? She snapped to the present as the rest of the team sans Spence walked into the office, fervently debating something that was more than likely a carry-over conversation from the cars.

She looked almost jealously as Morgan walked over to Penelope and wrapped his reassuring arm around her. Pen had been wilting in the past two hours, claiming she was up past her bed time but willing to do it for her Jayj. It was sweet, but her and Morgan, even sweeter.

_Why couldn't it have been me?_

She could barely imagine the pain they were going through. Sure, she had been abducted some two weeks earlier, but that had been scarcely a six hour stint. This… this had been two days with minimal sleep. At ten the next morning, it would be three. She felt nothing but guilty as she gazed at the nearly empty parking lot.

JJ tore herself away to try to listen to the plan. It had something to do with vests, Morgan going in, yadda, yadda. Same old. Well, that wasn't good enough to save her Spencer.

"I-" JJ started but the phone rang.

The room fell silent as the phone rang. An officer answered it in a bored manner, sighing his yes's and his okay's. "Well?" Hotch asked expectantly.

"Noise pollution," the man rolled his eyes. "Probably the third call about it tonight."

JJ's eyes flashed. "We've been here this entire time and you haven't told us that there were _three_ calls about noise pollution?!" she snapped. "Well, what was the noise?"

"Shouting, from some guy's basement…"

"What the hell kind of police department do you run here?" Morgan burst. "We have a missing agent and civilian and you don't heed to a noise pollution call? _Three?_ It doesn't take the village idiot to put it together!"

"Agent Morgan," Rossi said sternly. "I think he understands the point."

Hotch sighed, looking at the officer in a straight-forward manner. "Well, did you at least get an address?"


	6. Need

**A/N: Disclaimer in profile. Review, review, review! I love to know your thoughts!**

**Six**

Never before had things been snapped so objectively into place.

Haley looked calmly at Spencer, who was sitting there mulling over what was about to happen. She could see his concentration in his face, it was one of the things that calmed her most, as a matter of fact, up until about fifteen minutes ago, it was _the_ thing that calmed her most.

It felt good, watching the life drain from the woman's terrified eyes. For once in her life, Haley felt control. She had found the solace she had been so desperately seeking for years. She shocked herself with the realization that she wanted more.

What would Spencer say?

"Renee?" called a male's voice about fifteen minutes later. He sounded large, by the way the stairs creaked on his way down the stairs.

"Joshua, what're you doing? She's working," said a smaller sounding voice.

"Spencer," Haley whispered, huddling closer to her brother. "What're we going to do?"

He was still thinking, still in that place of peace he went to when he was figuring something out. "Are you strong enough to stand now?" he asked quietly as Joshua and the smaller man were debating as to whether or not they should 'interrupt' Renee, apparently the woman Haley had disposed of.

"Barely. You saw, only for a couple of seconds or so," Haley said logically and rationally. "What are you thinking about?"

"Window?" he asked, looking up at the blackout curtain.

Haley looked as well. "I don't know, I-"

"_You!_" came the booming voice, Joshua, from across the room again. "Did you do this?" He was pointing at the dead Renee.

"Niabi!" the smaller one yelped and ran to the body. "They killed her!"

"Just get her out of here. We'll prepare for the burial later," Joshua said, looking from Spencer to Haley with a feral gleam in his eye.

_No, no, no, no, no,_ Haley thought. _They can't take her away yet!_ She surprised herself again with these thoughts. What had she planned to do? Get a _trophy_?

Again, fear dominated Haley's thoughts as Joshua started towards her. This was it. Here, now. In front of her brother.

"Don't look, Spence."

--

Sirens filled the air as the SUV's and five accompanying police cars flew down the street to the site of the noise pollution. The wheels screeched at the driveway in front of a small gray house. They cut off the sirens and flashed the lights in a dead silence for what seemed like half an hour. JJ looked at her watch; it had only been two minutes.

"Obviously not the stereotypical hostage situation, then," Emily said.

"What do you mean?" Garcia asked.

"They haven't started to shoot yet. If they haven't by now, they won't. We'll have to get them out ourselves unless one of them breaks a little," Emily explained.

"How do you know it's not hostage?" JJ asked.

"They haven't placed demands in the Initial Phase; we'll just go right into the Negotiation Phase. And Reid and Haley aren't symbols of a greater cause, they're a prize and a "Beware" sign."

"Head's up!" Morgan shouted as every member of the team and all of the officers held up their guns from behind the barricade made from the police car doors.

A small Native American man emerged onto the porch carrying a gun. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he screamed.

"Joel Longfoot?" called Hotch into a blowhorn. "This is Agent Hotchner. We spoke earlier, remember?"

Joel nodded as he began to pace the porch holding his gun in plain sight.

"We have Harrison Chepi in custody," he continued. "Please, Joel, don't be rash. There are civilians everywhere."

"We don't have a Harrison Chepi," one of the female officers whispered to Rossi.

"It's part of luring them into a panic," Rossi replied consisely.

"Wouldn't the sirens do it for them?" the officer asked, wide eyed.

"Sometimes. Others we just have to sit and they'll come out. This time, we had to use the loud speakers," Rossi sighed.

"Please just come peacefully with all of your number and the two agents you have in the vicinity," Hotch finished up a large spiel that Rossi had missed.

"THERE'S ONLY ONE AGENT YOU LYING ASSHOLE!" Joel screamed.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We all make mistakes. Me with the agent, you with taking them. I'm sure you had a very logical reason for doing what you did. Just… bring your number into custody and we'll discuss it."

Joel scratched the back of his head, turned to the open door as if listening to something, and smiled. "ONE MORE MINUTE!" he shouted.

"One more minute? What does he mean one more minute?" JJ asked frantically. Rossi put a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't think you want to know," he murmured.

"Now, Joel," Hotchner said into the horn. "You have ten seconds before I send every fed, SWAT, and officer in there and bust you, no questions asked."

Joel looked panicked, scanned the area that the open door allowed, and put the gun down, hands over his head. He began to walk toward the line-up.

Hotch lowered the horn. "There are at least two others in there, Morgan, I want you and Prentiss to go in and get them out."

They nodded and suited up, taking the guns out of the holsters and following the hedge to the back of the house.

Emily stopped, Morgan behind her, questioning.

She nodded toward a locked cellar, indicating that was where they should start.

Morgan nodded, taking the lead and kicking down the nearly rotten doors. "FBI!" he screamed.

He heard a soft grunt and the zip of what sounded like a pair of pants. _Oh God_, Morgan began to pray as he looked through the rubbish and trash throughout the cellar.

"Look at this," Emily said, nudging a woman's body with her boot toe. "Bludgeoned to death with what looks like…" she shined her flashlight on the sparkle of an iron. "… that."

"Oh God," Morgan verbalized this time. "Come on, we gotta find the Reids.

"Woah!" Prentiss stepped a bit further to see a broken Haley sitting next to her stunned and silent brother, the younger shedding silent tears down her dirt-crusted face. The older staring off into infinity.

"It's all right, you two. We're here-" Morgan began but was cut off by an attack from behind. "HOLY--!" He shouted as he fought off an angry Joshua Blueknife. The blows were harsh and vicious and the brawl ended with Joshua pulling a gun, glaring at Morgan.

Morgan did the same. "Put that down," he shouted at Blueknife. "You've ruined enough lives tonight."

"This is MY punishment… for love outside of the tribe! You needed to stay away! We had it all under control!" he screamed, half-mad.

"Sir, I promise you, this will go a lot better when you put the gun down," Morgan breathed.

Tears began to roll down the larger man's face. "This went all wrong… I… It never was supposed to be this way! You… you were supposed to leave when you got the note! And… I… I don't know…" the gun began to travel from Morgan, to the man's temple.

"No… nonononononono! That is a big mistake, please, just come with us peacefully and-"

"IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY!" he shrieked just before he pulled the trigger.

--

Two Weeks Later

Spencer, now cast-less walked down the hallway at Quantico, glad to be back. He had taken a two week leave due to his recent kidnapping and spent it with Haley, watching movies in his apartment, taking walks in the park, going to the mandatory psyche meeting, that sort of brother/sister thing. Still, the images of being completely helpless while his sister was raped, twice, flashed through his mind. Her hopeless eyes as the woman walked in. Worst of all, the look of satisfaction, of _pleasure_ that crept across Haley's face after she killed the woman scared him. It couldn't mean… it didn't mean… Haley had feelings, emotions… didn't she?

He didn't know, rather, he didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about it anymore. It was time to focus on a new case, a new page in the young genius' life. That chapter just had to go down in the 'Things I'd Rather Forget' file in the vast storage area that was his mind. Not to be cocky, but he liked the metaphor.

JJ was supportive of his taking off for a while; she was even concerned about his coming back to the office. She even tried to get him to 'be sick' that morning in bed. He wouldn't have any of it. He was more concerned about Haley than himself. As long as he was concerned with something more important than he was, he would be fine. He hated that she quit the internship, but couldn't see another way she would continue. She finished her semester's work for Yale, and now she just lay around the apartment, staring off into emptiness.

Her psyche records came out clean. The… events… had left no lasting scar that doesn't affect normal rape victims, but he just didn't know.

He sat down at his desk, took a sip of his coffee, nodded and smiled at Morgan, who was bored from deskwork, and settled into his chair. It was good to be home.

--

Haley stared at the ceiling of her old bedroom. Isabelle played in the floor next to her. Haley had played for a while, but eventually told Izzy that she needed a naptime. Izzy understood, she loved her naptime like no normal child did. JJ must've taught her well.

But Haley wasn't asleep. She was thinking, thinking hard. She was contemplating the emptiness that had formed inside of her since she killed that woman, Renee Niabi, she would never forget. It was beautiful… glorious… disturbing. Why did she think these things?

Why was there a hole in her stomach? She didn't know. She had tried all the things that she loved before, cooking with the BAU girls, running with Morgan, playing with little Izzy, discussing _anything_ with Spencer; nothing worked. Nothing ever would work again. She knew what she needed.

She needed to kill someone.


End file.
